The Seam Life
by avatar-lover-07
Summary: Where Peeta is an Everdeen from The Seam; and Katniss is a Mellark from The Merchants.
1. The Hanging Tree

**Chapter One **

_**The Hanging Tree**_

District 12 was the smallest district in Panem – the poorest – the least respected – and even though 12 has the smallest population many people would often drop from undernourishment or starvation. Most people worked to the bone just to provide their families. Skin red, raw, and covered in coal dust. The mines on the outside of town caused thick grey clouds of coal dust and ash to cover the district adding to the grey and lifeless quality of 12 – lifeless but still there. Still working.

The Seam – the closest part to the mines – was the dirtiest and poorest part of 12. Rundown houses lined the coal stained dirt roads and closest thing to luxury was the green meadow that separated The Seam from the fence, the forest, the wild – freedom. Dawn was when the men would suit up in their coal stain work clothes, kiss their families goodbye and make their way down the depth of the mines. The people of The Seam worked the hardest but got the least, but in 12… that's the way it is.

Though The Seam was the poorest part of 12, there was a sense of community about it - where everyone knew everyone. Children with dark hair and dark eyes could play on the streets together with the few kids from the Seam that have light hair and light eyes without being judged by Merchant kids. The Merchant kids; though they had a better of chance of survival from things such as starvation – still lived the hard life. Helping their parents run their business, living in small and cramped houses above their stores without the freedom of the meadow and the same sense of danger … because if there was one similarity between the Merchant and Seam kids it was the Hunger Games.

The relationship between The Seam and the Merchant had always been tense – both not interacting with each other much. At the local school, the Seam kids would stick to themselves and that suited the Merchant children just fine. There were some rifts that just couldn't be mended; and this was one of them. Even when the Games were on the Seams would mourn together and the Merchants would do the same - never together.

Katniss Mellark was only 11 years old when one of the mines on the outskirt of town collapse killing a number of Seam men; and yet it was the only time she could remember the whole district of 12 coming together as one to mourn a great loss. The Seam, Merchant, Mayor and even Haymitch Abernathy – the only victory of the Games in 12 – all gather together in the town square and said their goodbye to the own.

It was also the only time Katniss heard a song - a song she called "The Hanging Tree."

When her and her family had gotten to town square – just a short walk from the bakery – she heard it. A young girl walking up the path with the rest of The Seam singing the strange song with two kids clutching her hands.

_"Are you, are you_

_ Coming to the tree _

_Where they strung up a man they say murdered three._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

She looked quite out of place among all the Seam kids with blonde hair - there were only a few kids in The Seam that had the commonly Merchant trait - but the coal dust still stained her pale skin and clothes as it did for the rest of her seam brothers and sisters.

_"Are you, are you _

_Coming to the tree _

_Where the dead man called out for his love to flee. _

_Strange things did happen here _

_No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

Her voice was strong and beautiful; and it reminded her of a boy. A boy from the Seam who she had heard sing on the first day of school. She remember her mother pointing him out and saying that she had wanted to marry his father - who's voice made the birds stop and listen - just like they stopped for the boy and now for this girl - maybe everyone in The Seam had beautiful voices - Katniss wouldn't know.

_"Are you, are you _

_Coming to the tree _

_Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

Now the whole Seam community had joined the girl - singing in beautiful harmony in honor of their own. Katniss could see the boy - he too had a younger child clutching to his hand - her blonde curls loose and tears streaming down her cheeks smudging the coal that licked her chin. The boy however walked strong and ridged - no emotion on his hollowed face; he too was singing - and not just the birds stop - all the life had stopped to listen to them sing

_"Are you, are you _

_Coming to the tree_

_Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me. _

_Strange things did happen here _

_No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

For an 11 year old the lyrics didn't have much meaning to Katniss – she was too in awe of the sound – the strong and beautiful voices that echoed throughout the town; not one voice quivered - even though tears still streaked most of their cheeks. Even without music – which Katniss had thought was essential with songs – it was easily the greatest sound she had ever heard. Also the most powerful – but that was probably from the intention sense of community that seemed to radiate off them.

_"Are you, are you _

_Coming to the tree _

_Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free._

_Strange things did happen here_

_No stranger would it be If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

Intense silence followed the last verse – The Merchants looked at the Seam with some sort of newfound respect for them – however small. But not Katniss; because from the day she had first heard the boy sing she knew – she was a goner.


	2. Surviving

**Chapter 2 **

**_Surviving _**

Peeta Everdeen always had to work hard. However, after his father died and his mother fell into a horrible depression where it would take hours of coaxing just to get her out of bed; he had had to grow up fast. For a normal 11 year old, this would seem impossible – providing for not only himself but also his beloved sister Primrose and what was left of his mother; but he had grown up in The Seam where nothing was handed out on a plate – without first having to make that plate.

The first month that his father had died was the toughest. No source of income meant no food. And no one wanted to hire a 11 year old. So he had to start selling anything he could at the Hob. Greasy Sae had been generous buying the things that no one wanted or needed. But he was running out of things to sell and no one from the Merchant wanted to help a Seam kid. And the Seam couldn't afford to.

Soon his cheeks started to hollow as the food load started to decrease; only a few bruised apples, half a jar of goat cheese and beans remained. His olive skin started to grey and his dark hair was messier than ever. His wasn't worried about himself though. Prim was his biggest worry. Her pale cheeks that used to be rosy red were now hollow and greying; but her blue eyes still shone bright. She had faith in Peeta – he just wished he could live up to that.

But he was all alone – no one to take care of him – to sing to him when he woke up from dreams plagued with terrors like his father used to do – or to hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright like his mother. But his father was dead and his mother was as good as. Now he had to comfort Prim when she woke up crying; putting his own demons on hold.

His mother hadn't been the same since that day; she was no longer the Merchant girl who gave up her more privilege life to live in The Seam for love. The girl who would kiss her husband goodbye at dawn and wave until he was out of site. Who somehow went from being an outsider to the heart of Seam healing sick and injured. No, she was no longer recognizable to Peeta; she could hardly look at him without tears filling her eyes because he looked so much like her lost love and he resented it for it.

That was how he found himself looking through the trashcans in the Merchant section, while it pelted down rain. But he was desperate. Prim had said she was fine and that she could handle it (sounding much more grown up than an 7 year old should) but he could still hear the rumbling of her stomach as it ached for food. It was the sound of him failing Prim. The sound of him failing his father. He was now the man of the house – he had to protect Prim! The most important thing in his life! No matter what!... But he was so tired, so hungry, so alone.

He collapsed outside against a tree; the sweet smell of bread and baked goods from the bakery filled his nose – teasing him. He could feel his consciousness slipping as his hunger took over. Then suddenly he could hear yelling and the bakery back door slammed open; a small girl, he recognized from school, was shoved out by her mother - the town witch according to Greasy Sae. According to her, the witch had been friends with his mother and had wanted to marry his father but they were already deeply in love; and the rejection had drove her to a life of bitterness.

Eventually though she married the town baker – a kind and gentle man – and lived a more privilege life than Peeta's family. But the heartbreak and bitterness turned her into an unrecognizable woman who blamed her family on her disappointing life. Her three children took full brunt of it and would sometimes turn up to school with purple bruises peeking out under their clothes.

This was one of the reasons Peeta pledged to never love anyone; apart from Prim of course. Yet he couldn't decide whether or not that was worse than ending up like his mother though. So staying alone suit him just fine. Prim was the only girl he needed in his life.

The girl now held two loaves of burnt bread in her hands close to her heart. Soon her mother stomped back into the house shouting at her to feed the pigs while muttering unkind things under her breath. Peeta then watched as the girl walked to the edge of the porch, look over her shoulder and through him the two loaves of bread before running back inside her 2 braids flicking behind her.

He sat in shock at the loaves in front of him before jumping up and grabbing the loaves before running all the way home with a new sense of energy. He burst through the door of his rundown house yelling excitedly for Prim to wake up pulling her out of her slumber. His sudden change in mood even roused his mother out of her daze as she watch as he eagerly showed Prim the slightly wet but still fresh bread. The freshest the Everdeens had ever seen or eaten. Prim excitedly ripped her blankets away from her and ran into Peeta arms laughing along with him. The sweet sound made her, for the first time in a month get out of the bed and walked over to them.

"Well we could start a fire and heat the bread up. Prim, dear get what's left of the goat cheese that Peeta got last week; it'll go well with the bread,"

Prim grinned and bounded off toward the cupboards while Peeta stared at her for a while before nodding curtly and making his way over to the stove. She brushed her ratted hair out of her face and decided to set the small table and even light a few candles. Once the bread was heated and the goat cheese smear the three of them sat down together for a full meal since their loss. It was nice she decided and the loss that hanged heavy on their shoulders lessen somewhat making living just a little for bearable.


	3. Thanking Troubles

**Chapter 3 **

**_Thanking Troubles _**

The Seam people were proud people. This might sound silly considering they were poor and lived in rundown shacks on dirt road where everything from their skin to their clothes were stained with coal – but they were proud. Though they didn't have much; they work for what they had. And damn they worked hard. Every smudge of coal that stained their clothes had been earnt from hard labor. Every scratch, graze and bruise was earnt and worn with pride. Hands, that had been skinned from harsh winters, worked hard for what they got – however little it seemed. Charity was never accepted – people from The Seam would sooner perish then ask for a handout – rather sell everything they own to provide for their family – anything to stop being in debt with someone. It was stubborn and maybe stupid but that was the way it was- had always been.

Seam people didn't take to debt easily; And Peeta Everdeen was no exception.

He was currently lying in bed still wide-awake but for once, it wasn't from his aching stomach that begging for relief, no his belly was full as could be, as was his dear sisters who was laying comfortably next to him fast asleep. He could make out the faint outline of his mother across the room; whose soft snores filled the tiny house the first time he thought she had truly slept. The sound almost brought a ghost of a smile to his face but he wouldn't let himself open up – no. It would only end in disappointment and he couldn't lose it, he had to hold it together – for Prim if anything else. He sure as hell knew his mother couldn't – he was the only steady thing left in Prims world and he wasn't about to fail her.

But sleep plagued him; every time he closed his eyes he came face to face with the little blonde bakers daughter; who had given him the food which feed his baby sister. She didn't have to give him that bread – no one would have blamed her – but she did and she didn't even seem to understand how life changing it was. Those two loaves of slightly burn bread probably meant nothing to her but it meant everything to him; it really revealed the difference between people from town and people from The Seam. Because as soon as she had thrown that bread he knew he would be forever in debt with her; a girl he didn't even know the name of; a girl who probably didn't know he was indebted to her.

He didn't understand why she was yelled at by the witch – the bread was edible – delicious even. It was like gold to Peeta and his family, so why had the bakers wasted it and feed it to the pigs? Were Merchant people so high and mighty they could eat slightly burnt bread? No wonder Seams didn't get along with them; a bawl would happen within minutes of gathering. Food was the difference between living and dying here in the Seam: it would matter if the food was burnt, moldy or thrown on the ground – it was food and it kept them alive.

He had often thought of how life would be if food was constantly available to him and his family. That they could waste food if it was burnt or didn't taste good – where Prim could eat five course meals every day and he would never have to hear her stomach grumbling again. Where he would never be so hungry that the lining of his stomach was eating itself. Where he couldn't count the ribs of his sister or see her bones so clearly that she could surpass a an skeleton. Where her skin was always, glowed and her cheeks were plump and rosy and he could see her dimples. But that was just a dream – almost impossible - like his father still being alive or his mother waking up from her depression; suddenly becoming the woman she once was taking care of her children and healing the sick and injured.

But Peeta could afford to think like that – because stuff like that wouldn't happen. He would woke hard to get the bare minimum of making sure Prim always had something to eat – even if it was so small that he couldn't have any. He would do it.

That small girl had woken up something inside of him. A fire. A will to survive and protect Prim no matter what. And he would succeed or die trying. (Quite a scary thought for an 11 year old.)

He knew he would have to confront her; the bakers daughter. He would have to shallow his pride and thank her for what she had done for his family. For Prim.

The thought nearly made him wish it had never happened – but hearing Prims soft snores rather than her grumbling belly made him grateful - happy even– so happy he might feel like singing – only he hadn't sung since the memorial. Singing reminded him of his father – and he rather not be reminded of him.

He decide he would confront her tomorrow at school – thank her quickly and leave before she could say anything.

He then closed his eyes and was lulled to sleep with the soft snore of his mother and sister – his family – his whole world – and that was worth everything.


End file.
